


Revolver

by rauqthetommo



Series: Crossfire [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Canon Divergence - No Pennywise, Explicit Sexual Content, Hitman AU, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Rape, OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Slow Build, Slow Burn, graphic description of violence, mentions of overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Following the events of Pistol:Richie must deal with the aftermath of Eddie stealing his kill, or more specifically, explaining to Bill how the fuck he managed to get outgunned by a child.An excerpt from this work:“He pulled the gun on me, yeah, but I don’t think he really would have shot me.”“Why?”“He was just a kid. He said he was 18, but I don’t know.” Richie shrugged again, shaking his head. “He looked a lot younger than that.”Bill sighed through his nose, eyes locked on the blue-checked table cloth. “What heh-happened next?”“Well, I wasn’t sure who he was, so I tried to talk to him. Y’know, get him to tell why he was there or who he was.” Richie tapped his fingers on the table restlessly. “We didn’t talk for very long, though. I didn’t even see Marian before Eddie shot him. He snuck up on me.”“He could have kih-killed you, Rich.”Richie nodded. “Good thing Eddie was there, I guess.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Crossfire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658356
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	Revolver

**Author's Note:**

> I added the Slow Burn tag to both this part and the part before, bc I reread the parts and realized it took a second for shit to get going.

“I guh-guess I’m just not really understanding, Rich.” Bill frowned at him across the table.

Richie sighed and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “I already told you what happened, Bill, do you really want me to say it again?” Richie was getting annoyed. After Richie had hung up on him the night before, Bill had demanded Richie meet him back at Hog’s first thing in the morning. They’d been sitting at their table for 10 minutes while Richie went over every detail of the job.

“Why don’t you run ih-ih-it by me one m-more time, there, buddy.” Bill said, not really a question.

Richie sighed, raking his hands through his hair. “I went to the house—“

“Marian’s house.” Bill clarified.

“Yes.”

“And you’re sh-sure it was the right house?”

“You don’t believe me?” Richie glared at him from behind the dark lenses of his ray-bans.

“I didn’t s-say that.” Bill held up his hands.

Richie rolled his eyes. “I went to Marian’s house.” Richie repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. “I climbed in through his bedroom window, because he’d left it open.” He waited, expecting Bill to interrupt him again.

Bill nodded and gestured towards him. “And?”

“And, when I walked out of his bedroom, the kid was there in the hallway.”

“Eddie.” Bill said.

Richie nodded. “Eddie.”

“Eh-eh-and he threatened you with a gun?”

“I guess he didn’t really threaten me,” Richie shrugged and sat back in his chair. “He pulled the gun on me, yeah, but I don’t think he really would have shot me.”

“Why?”

“He was just a kid. He said he was 18, but I don’t know.” Richie shrugged again, shaking his head. “He looked a lot younger than that.”

Bill sighed through his nose, eyes locked on the blue-checked table cloth. “What heh-happened next?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure who he was, so I tried to talk to him. Y’know, get him to tell why he was there or who he was.” Richie tapped his fingers on the table restlessly. “We didn’t talk for very long, though. I didn’t even see Marian before Eddie shot him. He snuck up on me.”

“He could have kih-killed you, Rich.”

Richie nodded. “Good thing Eddie was there, I guess.”

Bill was quiet for a long time. “Damien isn’t happy.”

“Why?” Richie scowled. “Marian is dead. He gets to keep his money. What’s his problem?”

“He d-d-doesn’t think we can be tru-trusted.” Bill looked up at him. “This is a b-bad fuckup, Richie.”

“Bill, I—“

Bill sat forward suddenly and pulled the sunglasses off of Richie’s face, folding them in his hands and slipping them into his shirt pocket. “Richie, wuh-we can’t have Damien Hayes on our bad side. Th-th-is is exactly the kind of stupid shit I was talking about yesterday.”

“How is it my fault that someone else had a hit out on Marian?” Richie squinted in the sunlight, trying to see Bill from across the table.

“It’s your fault because you didn’t cuh-complete your job.” Bill leaned forward and placed his hand on Richie’s. “I can’t l-lose you, Rich. Not over something this stupid.”

“What can I do to fix this, Bill?” Without his glasses on, Richie practically had to climb on top of the table to see Bill clearly.

“Damien heh-has another job for you.” Bill pulled a file out of his bag and handed it Richie.

“Christopher Grapple.” Richie read aloud, flipping the file open and scanning its contents.

Bill nodded. “You’ll need to go see Stanley before you tuh-tuh-take him out.”

Richie furrowed his brow and looked up. “Stan Uris?” Bill nodded. “Why?”

“Be-be-cause Damien was very clear about how he wants him k-k-killed.”

***

“When you say ‘kid’, how old do you mean, Rich?” Stanley asked, glancing over his shoulder at Richie.

“He said he was 18,” Richie sighed, sinking further into Stan’s couch.

“Pretty young to be a hitman, don’t you think?” Stanley pulled a pill bottle out of his medicine bag and examined the label. It must not have been what he was looking for, as he shook his head and tossed it back in.

“Mm,” Richie sighed through his nose, listening to the sound of Patty, Stan’s wife, washing dishes in their kitchen. He’d always liked the Stan and Patty. Richie wasn’t sure how they knew Bill, but he knew that Bill trusted them and often sent Richie to Stan if he was hurt or if they needed medical supplies. Stan wasn’t a doctor, but he might as well have been.

“Did Damien give you a specific kind of medicine to use?” Stan set his medical bag aside and rested his hands on his thighs, crouching on the floor of his living room.

“No,” Richie shook his head. “He just said it has to look like an overdose.”

Stanley ran his fingers through his curly hair. “Patty?” He called into the kitchen. “Could you grab me some morphine from upstairs?”

“Sure,” Patty glided past them, wiping her wet hands on a towel as she went.

“Bill told me what happened with your last job.” Stan said, watching Patty walk away.

“I told you what happened with my last job.” Richie reminded him.

“No, I meant about how Damien wants you dead.”

“He—“ Richie blinked. “Dead?”

Stan raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, apparently he’s really pissed about you fucking up.”

“How is it my fault that someone else killed Marian first?” Richie slumped back against the couch. “I can’t help what other people do. Marian could have stepped out into traffic that same day and I wouldn’t have been able to help that, either.”

Stan sighed, pushing himself up and walking over to stand in front of Richie on the couch. “You’ll be fine, Rich. You’re good at what you do.” Stanley took the morphine from Patty as she came back into the living room, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “Just don’t fuck it up again.”

***

According to his file, Christopher Grapple had worked for Damien Hayes for a number of years. Damn near a decade. Unfortunately for him, he’d been caught by another person employed by Damien, sleeping with his wife, Shondra (she was a popular lady). So, Damien had taken a hit out on Christopher.

Christopher had been a drug runner for Damien, so Damien had made is abundantly clear that he wanted Christopher’s death to look like an accidental overdose. Poetic irony.

After Richie picked up the morphine from Stanley, he drove over the Christopher’s house to scope it out. Christopher lived a few streets over from where Richie had met Eddie the night before, so he parked in the same spot and walked over.

Damien had picked this night specifically because Christopher’s wife and two kids would be out all night at a soccer game, leaving Richie plenty of time to kill him and get away clean.

In the darkness of the night, Richie scaled the trellis up the side of Christopher’s house and climbed into his master bedroom window. Christopher was shaving in the bathroom when Richie climbed in, so he stabbed him in the neck with the needle while he rinsed off his razor, injecting him with enough morphine to kill a water buffalo.

Richie was in and out in ten minutes, laying Christopher down in the bathtub and sticking the morphine needle into his arm, before climbing back down the trellis and briskly walking to his car. He called Bill from the road to confirm his kill and then stopped to get some food at a diner downtown.

 _Damien is happy._ Bill texted him as the diner waitress set a glass of water down in front of him. _Big money coming in tomorrow._

 _Aye aye, captain._ Richie sent back.

“Decided on what you’d like?” The waitress asked, pulling a pad of paper from her apron. She was young, probably in her mid 20’s, and very preppy.

“Uh, yeah.” Richie hadn’t even looked over the menu. “The club sandwich?”

She nodded. “Fries ok for that?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” His phone buzzed again in his pocket. “Thank you.”

 _Meet me at Hog’s tomorrow morning I have something for you._ Bill wrote.

 _Roger that._ Richie sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He took his glasses off and set them on the table before hanging his head in his hands, exhausted.

***

Bev had a courier drop off Eddie’s money the following morning, a thick Manila package sliding through the mail slot and plunking down on the floor. He didn’t bother counting it, Bev had never shorted him before, so he just pulled all of the cleaning supplies out from under his sink, popped out the fake bottom in the cabinet, and dropped the bills in his floor safe before locking it back up and reassembling his kitchen.

Eddie immediately got to work cleaning his apartment. He did every Saturday, scrubbing everything down with bleach, washing all of his linens and clothes, and stopping to soak in the bath afterwards. Cleaning day was a day that he really needed to use his inhaler, the strong smell of bleach drying out his lungs and making his eyes water, so he kept the nozzle in his mouth while he cleaned, spraying it down his throat every so often.

After his bath he got dressed and decided to make a trip to the bookstore, maybe pick up some new paperbacks to add to his collection.

He was running a comb through his hair when his phone rang. _Bad to the Bone._ Bev’s ringtone. Eddie frowned, setting his comb down on top of his dresser and picking up his phone. Bev usually gave him at least a week between his jobs, sometimes longer. He hadn’t expected to hear from her so soon. “Hello?”

“Eddie, how are you, dear?” Beverly asked casually.

“I’m fine.”

“Your money arrived alright?”

“Yes,”

“It was all there?”

“Yes,”

“Good good,” She was smoking, Eddie could hear it. “I have some bad news, kiddo.”

“Is everything alright?” He sat down on the edge of his bed and tugged mindlessly on one of his curls.

Bev sighed heavily. “I’m going off the grid for a little while, honey.” Eddie blinked, waiting for her to elaborate. “I’m afraid I can’t give you too much information right now, doll, but I do have some good news for you.”

“What is it?”

“I have an old friend. A man by the name of Bill Denbrough. I’m going to pass you off to him for now, so you can keep working while I’m away. He’s a good man, Eddie. He’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

“Beverly, are you alright? Are you in danger?”

“I’ll be fine, Eddie.” Bev reassured him. “It’s just better for everyone if I go away for a little while. Don’t worry, honey, everything will be ok.”

“Ok,”

“I’ve set up a meeting between you and Bill. He’ll meet you at a cafe called Hog’s in an hour.”

“Ok,”

“Don’t be nervous, Eddie. He’s a good man, I swear.”

“Ok,”

***

Hog’s was only 6 blocks from Eddie’s apartment, so his walk there was short. He drummed his fingers on his thigh as he walked, trying to settle himself down. He was nervous about this whole thing. He hated meeting new people. He didn’t even know what Bill looked like. Bev had described him as “handsome and short,” which could be just about anyone.

He sat down at a table without ordering anything, slumping over in the hard metal chair and locking his eyes on the blue-checked tablecloth in front of him. Eddie wasn’t really a cafe person. He didn’t drink coffee, it made him too jittery, and he didn’t like crowds of people. It made his head spin.

_Bev is going to die. She’s in trouble and you’re just sitting on your ass. Someone is going to kill her and you’re going to be left all alone with no one. No one loves you. No one cares about you. No one—_

“Eddie?”

Eddie looked up from the table to see a man standing over him. He was handsome, and short, so if it was Bill, Bev had done a pretty good job describing him. “I might be.”

The man smiled, holding out his hand for Eddie to shake. “B-b-bev told me all about yuh-you.” He slid onto the chair across from Eddie. “I’m Bill.”

“Eddie,” Eddie shook his hand.

“Huh-how old are you?”

“Eighteen,”

“Young,” Bill remarked, taking a sip of the coffee he was holding. “I believe yuh-you met one of my men the other night, Eh-eh-eddie.” Eddie ran his hand over his arm, suddenly cold. “A good friend of mine. Richie.”

_That fucking jackass?!_

“I’m not sure,” Eddie shook his head.

Bill shrugged. “Either way, it duh-doesn’t matter.”

“Nervous?” Eddie blurted, unable to stop himself.

Bill laughed. “No, I heh-have a st-st-stutter.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie shook his head. “Beverly didn’t mention it.”

_You’re an asshole, you fucking prick, you can’t just bring up people’s disabilities it’s fucking rude. What is wrong with you?_

“It’s alright,” Bill waved him off. “I don’t mind.”

“How do you know Beverly?” Eddie tried to change the subject, bouncing his leg anxiously. He felt like he might need a hit off of his inhaler, so he ran his hand over it in his pocket.

“I actually grew up with her husband.” Bill smiled. “Ben.” Eddie nodded, even though he didn’t know who Ben was. He hadn’t even known that Bev was married. “Eddie, I don’t want you to be nuh-nervous.” Bill leaned forward in his seat. He reached out like he was going to take Eddie’s hand, so Eddie slid his hand off of the table and down into his lap. He didn’t like people touching him. “If a j-job is too much for you to handle, just let me know and I’ll pass it off to someone eh-eh-else.”

_Pass it off to Richie._

“There’s nothing I can’t handle.” Eddie said.

“That's great,” Bill smiled again, taking another swig of his coffee. “Beh-beverly already gave me your f-f-phone number.”

“Ok,”

“But I duh-do want you to meet one uh-of my men before I give you any jobs.”

“Ok,”

“How about we meet b-b-back here tomorrow morning? Around 10?”

“Ok,”

***

Eddie already didn’t like Richie. He’d met him before, that night at Marian’s house, and he struck Eddie as a fucking idiot. What kind of grown man gets outgunned by an eighteen year old? Fucking moron.

He wanted Bev back. He didn’t like being traded to Bill like a fucking baseball card.

_Bev might be in danger, you fucking asshole, don’t be so selfish._

He was so stressed about the whole situation that he reorganized his bookshelf in alphabetical order by the author’s middle name.

The dust from his books prickled his eyes and weighed down his lungs, so he took a quick pull off of his aspirator, then another. “I’m fine.” He said out loud.

_I’m not so sure._

“I’m fine.”

_What if Bev never comes back? What if someone kills her? What will you do then?_

“I just need to relax.” He puffed his inhaler down his throat again. “I just need to relax.” He repeated, setting his inhaler down. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. 3:07. Too early to go to a bar and pick up some guy. He sighed, annoyed, and set his phone down on the couch. “I just need to relax.” He told himself again, settling for sliding his hand down the front of his pants.

***

Richie slept restlessly that night. Tossing and turning, sweating furiously and freezing cold at the same time. He wasn’t sure why he was so worked up. Maybe it was the vagueness of Bill’s text? Bill was a pretty straightforward guy, so his _I have something for you_ , really perplexed Richie. What did that mean? He probably just meant the money for the job. But why had he worded it like that?

Richie groaned and threw off his covers, sitting up in bed. His alarm clock read 2:03, meaning he still had 8 hours before he was to meet Bill at Hog’s. He decided to take a shower, letting the hot water roll over his tired body with his forehead pressed to the cool tile wall.

He jerked off while he stood there, desperate for a way to calm down, gently fucking into his own fist and splattering the shower wall with his orgasm. He washed it away quickly, the shower water now running cold, and toweled himself dry. 3:21. How had he spent an hour and 15 minutes in the shower? It hadn’t felt that long.

When he retreated back to his bedroom he saw that he had a text from Stan Uris. _How’d it go with Grapple?_ He’d sent.

 _All good, Stan the Man._ Richie replied. _Get some sleep, darling, you can’t treat that pretty wife of yours right if you’re tired._

Stan’s reply came in a few moments later. _Go fuck yourself._

_Already done, Stanley._

Stan read the message but didn’t reply, so Richie locked his phone and tossed it back on the bed. He briefly considered calling Bill and asking him to meet early, but he knew that Bill was asleep and would assume that if Richie was calling this late he was in some kind of trouble, so he refrained, not wanting to worry him.

Instead, he slipped back under the covers and curled in on himself, his wet hair sticking to his pillow case as he drifted back into anxious rest.

***

Richie had forgotten to set a fucking alarm when he went back to sleep, so when he woke up 5 minutes before he was supposed to meet Bill for coffee, he cursed himself for being a fucking idiot and rushed to get ready.

He’d left the apartment at 10:03, walking briskly to Hog’s with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. Bill was already there when he arrived, sitting at their usual table, chatting with someone. Whoever the person was had their back turned to Richie as he approached, nodding along to whatever sentence Bill was stuttering his way through. Bill’s face lit up when he saw Richie, motioning for him to sit down. “I’m sorry I’m late, Big Bill, I overslept.” Richie slung his bag over the back of his chair and sank down into it.

“Don’t wuh-wuh-worry about it, Rich.” Bill waved him off. “Richie, I want you t-to meet—“

“Eddie,” Richie interrupted, eyes falling on the boy sitting across from him. It was the same boy from the other night, the one who’d killed Marian and threatened to shoot his dick off.

“Bitch, I might be.” Eddie answered, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“You have met.” Bill smiled, looking between the two of them.

Eddie shrugged dismissively, crossing his legs. He was dressed in a black t-shirt with some logo on it that Richie didn’t recognize, and dark wash jeans. His curly hair hung loosely around his face and he had dark sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. He was scowling at Richie. “We met the other night.” Richie agreed.

Eddie just shrugged again.

“I got you a coffee, Rich.” Bill slid a cup over to Richie.

“Thanks,” Richie answered quietly, eyes not leaving Eddie. He couldn’t tell if Eddie was looking at him too, as his eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, but based on the look on his face, Richie assumed he was.

“Eddie is going t-to be working with uh-us.” Bill took a sip of his own coffee. “For a while, at least.”

“Oh?” Richie pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Yes, his old handler is going off the grid for a wuh-while.” Bill reached out to pat Eddie’s arm, but Eddie jerked away suddenly, leaning hard against the arm of his chair. Bill seemed unfazed by this, simply setting his hand back on the table. “I want you two to take this next hit to-together.”

“I work alone,” Eddie said at the same time Richie began saying, “Bill, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Bill ignored them both, pulling a file folder out of his bag, along with a fat envelope. He slid the envelope to Richie before placing the file flat on the table. “This is fuh-for Grapple.” Bill patted Richie’s arm as Eddie grabbed the file, flipping it open.

“Frank Mockis.” He read aloud. Richie reached out for the file but Eddie pulled it away, sliding his chair a few inches back from the table.

“An old friend of mine, M-m-m-muh—“ Bill stumbled, frowning. “Shit.” He sighed, shaking his head. Richie watched Eddie read over the file as Bill began muttering to himself. “He thrusts his f-fists against the p-p-p-post—“

Eddie read in silence, not bothering to look up while Bill struggled through his sentence. Richie was getting more annoyed by Eddie with each passing second. First he steals Richie’s kill, now he’s acting like he’s god’s gift to earth and Richie is just some asshole? What a pretentious little brat. Richie reached forward quickly and yoinked the file out of Eddie’s hands. “Hey!” He protested.

“—guh-guh-ghosts—“ Bill was still going.

“You’ve had it for long enough, kid.” Richie said simply, flipping open the file and looking it over.

“Give it back,” Eddie snapped, leaning across the table.

“—still insists h-he sees—“

Richie held the file away, out of Eddie’s reach. “You’ve had it long enough, Eddie, let the grownup take a look.”

“G-guys—“ Bill started.

“Fuck you!” Eddie was practically yelling now, stretching far forward to try and yank to file back.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth, little boy?” Richie shot back.

“Guys!” Bill slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the silverware and causing a few other patrons to look over at them. “Sit down,” He hissed to Eddie. “Give me that.” Bill snatched the file from Richie and set it on the table.

“Bill, I—“ Richie started as Eddie plunked down into his chair, saying, “He started—“

“You two are adults and I damn sure expect you to act like it.” Bill said in a harsh whisper, any evidence of his stutter gone. “You _will_ work on this job together, or I’ll kick both of you to the curb so fucking fast it’ll make your heads spin.” He looked between the two of them. “You two need to get along.”

“Why?” Eddie and Richie asked at the same time.

“Because, like it or not, you’re going to be working together from now on and I don’t have the patience for bullshit.” He turned to Richie first. “You’re 30 years old, Rich, don’t sit here and bicker like you’re 12.”

“I wasn’t—“ Richie began.

“I’m not finished.” Bill interrupted, shooting Richie a glare before turning to face Eddie. “If you want to be treated like an adult you better fucking act like one, Eddie. Bev spoke very highly of you. Don’t make her a liar.”

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbled, sitting back against his chair and crossing his arms back over his chest.

“Apologize to each other.” Bill said. When neither of them spoke, Bill snapped, “I said apologize, _now_.”

Richie sighed, looking across the table to Eddie. “I’m sorry,” He said.

“Yeah, me too.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him, face turned away, eyes still hidden by the dark lenses of his glasses.

“B-better.” Bill sighed, running a hand through his hair. He picked the file up off of the table and opened it. “This is an important j-job.” He said. “Frank Mockis has been in hiding for almost twe-twenty years, trying to avoid a man named Jeremy Isler.” Richie nodded, listening along. “In 2002, Mockis raped and killed Jeremy’s only brother, who was 19 at the time. He heh-held him hostage for 6 days and then set him on fire.”

“Jesus,” Richie said softly.

“Isler has been looking for Mockis ever s-s-since.” Bill passed the file to Richie.

“And he found him,” Richie finished, reading over the information in the file.

Bill nodded. “So, now I need you tuh-two to take care of him.” He glanced over at Eddie, who was still staring off to the side, frowning. “We’ve only been able to track him as far as a place called ‘Jade of the Orient.’ It’s a Chinese f-food place uptown. He eats there every Wednesday night. Follow him there, follow him home, and take care of th-this.”

“How much?” Eddie spoke up, still not looking over at him.

“80 each.” Bill took the file back from Richie and placed it on the table in front of Eddie. Eddie didn’t move to pick up the folder or respond, so Bill kept talking. “This is im-important.” He said again. “Not only the job, but your ruh-relationship as well.” He looked at Richie pointedly. “You two need to get along. It isn’t an suggestion. I want you two to go out for a drink tomorrow night.”

“How? He’s underage.” Richie shook his head.

“I can get in,” Eddie answered, finally turning back towards the table.

“You have a fake ID?” Richie frowned.

Eddie knit his eyebrows together. “I fucking kill people, dude.” He scoffed.

“Fantastic,” Bill smiled at them, reaching one hand to rest on Richie’s shoulder and the other extending out towards Eddie. Eddie leaned out of Bill’s reach. “Let me know how your little date g-goes.” Bill said to Richie, standing to leave. “I expect all of the details by Wednesday morning, at t-the latest.” He called over his shoulder, weaving around chairs and tables as he went.

Richie followed Bill with his eyes as he left, watching him disappear down the street before turning back to the table to face Eddie. “So—“

“I’ll meet you at Gap Tooth tomorrow night at 9.” Eddie said, standing and picking up the folder from the table. “One drink, that’s it.” With that, he tucked the file under his arm and walked away, leaving Richie alone at the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


End file.
